


For a First Effort This Feels Kinda Last Ditch

by jolybird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (kinda they're all certain they're headed towards their deaths), Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fae & Fairies, Multi, Sea Monsters, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: Bossuet is sent out on a Quest to rescue a princess from a monster, which is pretty much a yearly thing for him (at the very least--the King is notoriously lax with security and shitty with monster-relations). This time, however, this Quest is one that Joly has failed and a world without him is a world where his friends are preparing for a rebellion back home and Bossuet know this Quest is his last.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Spook Me 2016, for which I'm terribly late. This fic is proof I cannot write spooky things for the life of me and if you've read any of my fics before, I think you'll know exactly which way this story is going to go. Title is from Marianas Trench's Desperate Measures. 
> 
> Hope everyone has a spooky, candy-filled Halloween!!

Combeferre stood in front of him and a wave of nausea washed over Bossuet. His face was pale and Bossuet took a step back, knocking into a chair. “No,” Bossuet breathed, “no please.” Combeferre’s face crumpled and he moved to go to him but Bossuet backed around the table to put a physical distance between them. 

Two weeks ago, the King send Joly to rescue a foreign princess who was living in their kingdom under the King’s protection. She had been captured by some sort of monster but the King hadn’t been worried. He sent Joly alone. Now Combeferre’s eyes were filling up with tears and suddenly nothing felt real. 

Combeferre worked in the castle, in the Hall of Records, he knew everything the moment it became official. If Joly had returned and if he was hurt then Eugenie, Grantaire’s sister, would be here, not Combeferre. The only reason Combeferre would be here taking deep steadying breaths with heartbroken eyes would be if Joly had been crossed out of the records. 

Combeferre walked around the table and pulled him into a tight, shaking hug. Bossuet knew that he was talking nonsense at this point, begging Combeferre to change things, to reverse what had happened. He didn’t want to see the others, didn’t want to walk out into a world that was now so much more singular. 

At some point he started sobbing and when he came back to himself, his head was pounding and they were sitting on the floor. “Do the others know?” 

“I came straight to you.” 

There was a tentative knock on the door and then it opened to reveal Marius. “The King demands your presence.” he said, a little distractedly and his voice trailed off as he noticed them on the floor. “What’s happened?” 

“Joly’s dead.” Bossuet’s voice was empty and still he wanted Combeferre to correct him, to laugh at how dramatic he was. 

Combeferre only hugged him tightly and then helped him to his feet. Keeping the King waiting was never a good idea. The color drained from Marius’ face. Bossuet walked towards him, not really feeling his legs and when he reached his friend he pulled him into a tight hug. He didn’t ask him if he was okay because he wouldn’t be again, he just led him down the hall towards the king. 

Several times Marius went to speak, a half-forced smile fading away into nothing. They walked in silence to the throne room and Marius hugged him again before sending Bossuet inside. 

The King looked indifferent, none of his friends were present. Enjolras used to be positioned in the throne room most frequently but someone (probably Combeferre) had made sure he was rarely (if ever) in the King’s presence for long. His eyes were getting a little too murderous for any of his friends to be comfortable with him by the King. It had been ten years now that Enjolras had served in the King’s Guard and his patience was finally wearing thin. They were all terrified that he’d just snap and go for the King’s throat. The King wasn’t popular, but regicide was regicide and there were plenty of people who were enjoying the power they received by aligning themselves with him. 

“Sir Joly was sent out on a quest and we have received confirmation that he has failed. You’re new quest will be to succeed where he did not. You will go after the Princess and you will kill the beast that has taken her or you will not return at all.” 

Of course he didn’t expect sympathy from the  _ King _ , but still, being handed the quest that had killed Joly...he didn’t like how it felt, to say the least. 

“Yes, sir.” He said, trying to sound as normal as possible but he could see Éponine, Marquise of Elbance, clenching her fists so hard, he could see her white knuckles. Éponine frequented the soldier’s barracks, sharing first hand the shit her parents (Duke and Dutchess of Elbance), the King and the rest of the royals. did behind everyone’s backs. Her sister Azelma was a Countess of Itria but lucky for her, she was currently living there. Her parents had multiple titles to throw around. None of which they deserved.   


The King released him and Marius looked up sharply from where he had been staring a hole in the stone walls. His eyes were red but he ignored it and put a hopeful smile on his face. 

“He’s sent me to kill the monster.” 

Marius shook his head and pulled him into a hug. The hug was brief and Marius was then pulling him down the hall. 

Grantaire’s lodgings were trashed and so they went to Enjolras’ next door which is where they found everyone gathered together. The room instantly fell silent at the sight of them.  Seeing his friends was almost too much for him but then Grantaire had his arms around him. 

“What did the King want?” Combeferre asked quietly, Bossuet didn’t know what kind of answer he wanted, but then again he was pretty sure Combeferre didn’t quite know either. 

“He gave me a Quest.” Grantaire held him tighter and was shaking so bad Bossuet could feet it. 

“He didn't--” Courfeyrac began, but then got up and stalked into the corridor.    


“I’ll go with you.” Grantaire said quietly. Bossuet wasn’t sure the others could hear him, “Of course I’ll go with you.” 

Bossuet could see how Enjolras and Feuilly were arguing, how Marius’ eyes were wide with a sick sort of determination. Combeferre was quiet, eyes unfocused. 

The door opened behind him and Éponine slipped inside, she looked scared, but determined and Bossuet very much doubted Grantaire was going to be going with him. He’d stay here and they all wouldn’t be without Joly for very much longer. He knew his friends, their desire for change and revolution. He knew his King and the power he wielded, the fear instilled in the land. He would ride out alone and no one would remain to mourn him. 

He kept an arm around Grantaire and tried to smile for Éponine as she told him how sorry she was. 

The next day, they didn’t say goodbye, they never did, but this time especially. Grantaire kissed him on the forehead and then he was climbing onto his horse. He took one last look at his friends, tried to memorize the sight of them, all gathered at daybreak to see him off and then he rode off towards Joly.  

 

* * *

Bossuet opened his eyes to the dark forest. His fire had dwindled away to smouldering embers so the only light he had was from the moon. He had thought about riding straight through the night, thought about making it impossible for rumors from the Capitol to reach him. He knew his friends were risking their lives, he knew they wanted to try to overthrow the king, do what they’d been discussing for year, spurred on by the King’s nonchalant non-reaction over Joly. He knew the King couldn’t be overthrown, not now, not with the way things stood. 

He sighed, ran a hand over his eyes and then pushed himself up, desperate to keep his thoughts away from the other half of himself that was just gone. 

The trees rustled around him as he knelt over the fire, warming his hands and reaching for some wood to put on it. He would think of  _ anything  _ else. Gingerly, he started rebuilding the fire until it roared back to life, flames reaching up into the canopy. 

Movement through the flames caught his eye and at first he thought it was just a shadow. 

Then he saw the reflection of eyes and long stretching clawed fingers. 

He swore and fell back, reaching for his sword and brandishing it in front of him. He was too far away for it to be the monster--it lived in the sea--that was the one thing they knew about it--it was supposed to be towering and--

Something moved to his left, coming closer and Bossuet clamored to his feet, sword out in front of him. Bandits maybe? Some forest witch? He tried to keep the fire between him and whatever it was--so far he had only seen one but he could be mistaken.    


He squinted, tried to listen to footsteps or underbrush rustling--

Eyes were in front of him--purple and just a slit of black and--Bossuet slashed out trying to keep it from him but whatever it was was fast and it had it’s arms around Bossuet a moment later. His sword was knocked away and he managed to elbow it before it kicked his legs out from beneath him. 

With the wind knocked, out of him, Bossuet had only a moment before he realized that there was a man on top of him, not a monster, pinning him to the earth. He tried to worm his way out of his grasp while checking to see how many more there were. 

As he twisted and rolled out from beneath him he realized they were alone. 

The man crouched, still holding onto him, trying to keep him still and his eyes  _ were _ purple. His skin had a bluish tint, even in the firelight.

“Shut  _ up _ .” The man hissed, eyes slowly turning into a harmless brown, “Grantaire sent me.” 

“What?” Bossuet gasped, pausing as he reached for his sword.   


“He said you’d want to see your king’s blood wash over the throne room.” The man in front of him now looked exactly that, a man. He had long dark amber hair and more freckles than Marius. “So please don’t try to stab me again. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you in the middle of the night but you took a wrong turn two towns back and it’s taken me this long to find you.” As he spoke, the forest around them started to become visible by minuscule amounts. 

“You were searching for me all night?” 

“Literally. The sun’s starting to rise.” He sighed, looking towards the sky. 

“Grantaire really sent you?” 

He nodded, “My name is Jean Prouvaire, but you can call me Jehan if we’re about to go chase down some vicious sea monster with just a sword and a couple daggers between us. You’re Bossuet and today we’re going to avenge Joly.” 

Bossuet swallowed thickly and shut his eyes for a heartbeat. “Do you need to get some sleep before we leave?” 

Jehan shook his head, “I’ve stayed up far longer before. I’m ready when you are.” 

“Let’s leave now then.” Why put it off, why spend any longer than he needed to without his best friend? Everyone he cared about was on a destructive, futile path that at best ended on the streets of the capitol. They weren’t enough. Not yet and…

The monster. 

Quickly, Bossuet gathered his things as the moment it became light enough. He and Jehan set off. Jehan didn’t have a horse (he was absolutely not human, but he wasn’t one to make assumptions) and Bossuet only spared a moment to think about how easy it would be for him to slit his throat and take his belongings (threadbare clothes, his sword, and a day’s worth of food) before he helped Jehan up on the back of his horse. 

The entire way, Bossuet thought only of the walk up to the executioner and how alone Joly must have been. He hoped it was quick. He hoped it snuck up on him. Jehan distracted him once or twice, talking about Grantaire mostly (vague stories he’d never heard from his friend, but undoubtedly something he’d do) but for the majority of their ride to the sea, he was silent. 

The first hint of salt air sent a wave of panic down Bossuet’s spine. A thousand what-ifs circled around him an--

“Did you get specific directions or did the King just say the sea?” 

“I think you already know the answer to that.” 

Jehan laughed darkly and was silent until they broke through the treeline and came face to face with the rocky cliffs and the unhappy, storming sea. “Get your sword out.” 

“What?” Bossuet asked, glancing behind him, but Jehan slid off the horse, eyes on the edge of the cliff. “If it’s down there--” 

Jehan waved him off and crept forward. Bossuet didn’t quite know what to do, so he stayed put, waiting to see what he’d need to do. When he reached the edge of the cliff and peered over the edge, Jehan’s shoulders sagged, he turned around, “we’re fine. I just thought I heard something.” 

“If you had stolen a princess, where would you have hidden her?” 

Jehan put his hands on his hips and looked down the shoreline. “Honestly? Well, no, you said it was some monster and Grantaire said it was a proper scaly, giant thing...Down here.” He took off at once and so Bossuet followed after him on horseback. The moment they got a hint of the monster, he was letting the horse go. It’d find its way back to the stables, it’d done it from neighboring kingdoms before. 

As they walked along the edge of the forest and the cliffs, Bossuet kept his eyes on the water. A storm must be offshore somewhere, the waves were pounding against the cliff face, roaring and crashing over Jehan’s voice as he mused out loud. He held his sword tightly in his hand as he kept pace with Jehan. He felt overprotected with Jehan armor-less, but he had a feeling it didn’t make a difference either way. 

The rounded a bend and suddenly a huge rocky island loomed before them. “I’d hide her there.” Jehan said so matter-of-factly, Bossuet wasn’t sure he hadn’t stashed a princess there before. “There’s a cave, right near the top.” 

Bossuet drew a deep breath and swore, “Stay back, I’ll check it out.” 

He crept forward, the horse was still calm so that was a good sign. Chances are, it was empty, chances are they’d be searching for days. 

“Wait--” Jehan called--

His horse reared up when there was a great crash, the waves thundered and suddenly there was a monster looming above him. He lifted his sword as if that’d do him any good--it was so massive it blocked the view of the island completely. Jehan screamed but then Bossuet lost his grip on the reins and he went crashing to the ground. Fuck--he would not let the King send someone else--he wouldn’t let Grantaire’s refusal to go be the catalyst for his friend’s rebellion. Enjolras would never let Grantaire go if this thing killed both--

Bossuet rolled with the fall and pushed himself up, pointing his sword out in front of him as he stepped back. Jehan was at his side, a dagger in his hand. He threw it and it embedded itself in the creature’s shoulder but it only recoiled a bit.     


The slight movement allowed the cave on the rocky island to become visible for a moment--there was a man standing at the entrance--or if not a man, the princess in men’s clothing. 

“What  _ is _ it?” Jehan asked breathlessly, readying himself with another dagger as the creature let out a gurgling growl. The water rushed, and someone shouted--it sounded masculine--the person on the rock? 

The creature lashed out towards them and Bossuet and Jehan dived out of the way. The creature stuck Bossuet and he was knocked towards the edge of the cliff. He dug in sword into the ground to keep himself from sliding off the edge and Jehan screamed. 

Clamoring to his feet, Bossuet looked to him--the situation had gone from calm to desperate in record time--Jehan ran back towards the trees. He was being a distraction. 

Bossuet slowly drew in a breath and readied himself. He put his sword in position and eyed the beast. It’s attention was on Jehan for this moment and so he ignored the rushing of the water directly to his left and tried to find a weak spot. 

“Musichetta!” a voice screamed in a panic, nearly drowned out by the crashing waves.    


The man on the cliffs--

_ Joly. _

He spun around to look and he lurched forward at the sight of his best friend. His feet slipped on the mud and he topped over the edge of the cliffside into the swells. The creature loomed above him and then it was dark. Water rushed into his mouth and the waves spun him around

The rocks

A tail 

Bossuet blindly reached for some kind of hold. He exhaled and already his lungs burned--he had to find the surface but his armor was heavy. 

Something knocked against him, sending him spinning down. In the murky, rushing water, he could only just make out a shape coming towards him

A rock. 

He could--

As he reached out, it was getting darker so he must be deep, the rock moved. 

He could  make out eyes--

teeth-- 

He gasped, lungs and head pounding, burning. He twisted away, trying to swim. Something stuck him and then--

 

He lurched to his side, his limbs were lighter now and something was holding him down and he was choking. He rolled over onto his side and drew in a deep breath. 

“You’re alright,” Prouvaire said, his voice close and calm. 

Someone sobbing very close by. Bossuet gasped and focused on breathing and calming the coughs. Hands were on him, gently and shaking and as he regained use of his lungs he could recognize--

“You’re alright--it’s okay, we have you--”

Joly. 

He rolled back onto his back, exhausted in more ways than one and just looked up at him for a moment. He was pale and crying but there was a wide smile on his face and he put a hand on his cheek. 

“You’re alive.” Bossuet croaked and behind Joly he could see a pretty woman who looked oddly guilty. She had blood on her shoulder but other than that she looked fine. 

“So are you.” Joly smiled and Bossuet shut his eyes for a moment, letting the relief wash over him. Joly was fucking  _ here _ . They were  _ wrong _ . He was alive.  _ Alive _ .  “This is Musichetta--she’s the Princess we were sent to rescue, by the way.” 

The woman ran a hand through her hair and then crossed her arms, offering him a smile. Bossuet returned it in kind,  “Pleased to meet you, would have liked it better if it had been under different circumstances.” 

“You weren’t breathing a couple minutes ago, can you stop flirting for a second?” Joly hissed and Musichetta laughed. It was a pretty sound. 

“Likewise, Sir Bossuet,” she smiled. 

“Don’t remind me.” Bossuet and Joly chorused, making faces at  _sir_ and then laughed. It hurt his chest, but it was worth it to see Joly smile.    


Gingerly, Bossuet pushed himself up into a sitting position, Joly and Prouvaire hovered to help him and he let them.  “You’re dead, officially, you know. Combeferre crossed you out.” 

“Ugh,” Joly sighed, leaning back and looking out into the ocean, “Enjolras is going to want me to do so much now.” 

Bossuet pulled him over and kissed him, Prouvaire moved away sharply. “I was so scared,” he whispered against his lips. 

“So was I--when I saw you there. And--why isn’t Grantaire here? Why isn’t he here getting revenge if you thought I was gone?”

“They were mad.” 

Bossuet didn’t think Joly could get any paler but he did, “oh no--” he turned to Musichetta who looked ready to help however she could, “Please, our friends are going to try to kill the King--please you have to help us.” 

“Help you stop your friends or help them kill the King?” she said evenly. 

“I didn’t sign up for regicide.” Jehan said faintly, but he was already looking towards the woods and pulling his hair back into a braid. 

Musichetta looked to Jehan, a little wary and, fuck, she was a princess. She had rooms at the castle and she dined with the King every day. Joly however, didn’t look fazed, “whichever keeps them the safest.” 

She nodded and squeezed his hand, “well, come on then, let’s show him what a real monster is.” 

At the mention of the monster, Bossuet jerked forward and looked around, “What happened?” 

“Oh--no.” Musichetta knelt down next to Joly and placed a hand on his shoulder, “it was me--I was the monster.” 

“You were the princess who was taken by the monster.” he said because apparently she had forgotten.    


Musichetta shook her head, “a fairy cursed the King but he had his court sorcerers transfer the curse to me and then he sent me off before the curse could take effect and then he sent Joly to kill me but that didn’t happen.” 

“There’s a raven at your place with a note that says I’m fine.” 

Bossuet raised an eyebrow and looked at him evenly, “Oh so the king might be sending someone else to kill us both if he thinks we know what really happened.” 

“It’s also worth noting.” Jehan piped up suddenly, “that Musichetta’s curse was conditional and the conditions were just filled a few minutes ago.” 

“The curse is broken?” Bossuet asked and Joly nodded. Musichetta sort of shrugged. She was going to be significantly less help now that she couldn’t turn into a giant monster anymore. Now they’d actually have to strategize. 

“You weren’t breathing so I pressed my lips to yours to try to revive you and I felt something snap and--it wasn’t a kiss so it shouldn’t have worked--but then once you were breathing again Joly kissed me and the snap sort of  _ finished  _ and the curse was gone. I can’t explain how I know but it’s gone.” 

“The condition was--” Bossuet began. 

“True love’s kiss.” Jehan smiled, looking at the three of them. 

“Well the situation was convenient then. And the curse sure was lenient.”

“Let’s not question it.”

“This whole thing turned out well in the end, wouldn’t you say.” Jehan said as he got up and stretched his legs. His voice had an odd tone and Joly glanced to him, looking suspicious. At least Bossuet wasn’t the only one who thought his new friend was behaving weird as fuck. Although he had only met him at dawn and he wasn’t sure if it was even noon yet so maybe this is how he always was?

“Jehan…” Bossuet asked slowly as he began leading the way back into the woods, armor-less and horseless, they had a Journey home now, “you’re not the fairy who tried to curse the king, are you?” 

“Of course not.” Jehan said in a tone that was oddly specific, it was almost like he was saying no to the curse and only the curse. “Although--”

“There it is.” Joly murmured. 

“It was my friend Bahorel and if I know him then he’s with your friends now and now that I fulfilled my debt to Grantaire, it’d be nice to get back in time to save him as well. A handful of humans, a fairy, a siren and an elf aren’t much of force against the army.” 

“Wait who’re the siren and the elf?” Bossuet blurted out. Jehan turned around and looked at him like he wasn’t quite sure if he was being serious. “I know my friends are the humans but--”

Jehan turned back around, “if you’ve been friends for as long as Grantaire says you’ve been and you don’t know they’re not human…” 

“Grantaire’s not human?” Joly gasped. Musichetta just listened in, following their shock with patient but interested eyes. 

Jehan groaned and began leading the way through the forest, “I can’t tell if you’re being facetious or if you’re that oblivious.” 

“We’re oblivious! Is our best friend an elf? He’s too short, isn’t he?” 

Musichetta laughed at Joly’s distressed tone and Bossuet was glad someone was getting a kick out of this--he was just now finding out he was a shit friend.

“Grantaire is human. The elf and siren are two of your other friends and if they didn’t tell you themselves I’m not outing them.”

Joly and Bossuet spent the entire rushed trip back to the kingdom trying to figure out why two of their friends found them untrustworthy. It was the only thing they could do to keep their minds off the fact that they might be too late. 

 

* * *

 

 

They reached the capitol shortly before sunset the following day. The city was quiet and no one was acting like anything had happened. Musichetta, Joly and Bossuet were all bundled up in cloaks to hide their identities (Jehan may have seduced a dwarf to get them? Bossuet didn’t ask) but no one paid them much mind as they made their way to the Corinthe, their usual pub at the very edge of the city. 

Jehan walked into the back room first and Bossuet could see Grantaire shoot to his feet, looking behind him. Bossuet almost cried in relief. He was so sure he was never going to see him again. Jehan put his hands up, “It’s okay--they’re fine.” 

“They’re--” he blurted out and then Bossuet stepped into the room and lowered his hood. Immediately, Grantaire vaulted over the table--probably the most impressive feat of athleticism he’d ever performed. He pulled Bossuet into a tight hug and then from behind him, Courfeyrac cried out. 

“Joly’s alive.” Bossuet whispered to Grantaire and the other man pulled away, threw an arm around Joly and then hugged the both of them.    


“I thought I was going to die never seeing either of you again.” 

“Course not.” Bossuet whispered and Joly shook his head. 

“Everyone’s been wrong a lot these past couple of days and I couldn’t be happier.” 

Bossuet pulled away slightly, Grantaire looked like was was content with become a leech, “me either, between thinking you were dead and thinking all our friends were human--”

“What do you mean you thought we were all human?” Combeferre asked suddenly, Jehan and the only stranger in the room, so he must be Bahorel, were seated next to him and Jehan looked much less worried now. As a matter of fact, he looked almost gleeful. 

“Um.” Bossuet and Joly said in unison. 

“Everything I said to you, I expand to the two of them as well.” Enjolras told Grantaire who only tried to glare back. If the three of them somehow were completely oblivious to this, that just proved they were destined to be friends. 

“Be nice to me, I’m legally dead.” Joly protested immediately. 

“You guys really thought I was human?” Feuilly signed, trying to keep a straight face. 

“Yes?” Bossuet and glanced to Joly, “why are you secretly an elf?” 

“Oh shit--” Bahorel said suddenly, interrupting Bossuet’s realization that Feuilly was mute by choice be was a fucking siren.  “you’re that girl!” 

“Yes I’m fine thanks for noticing. Thanks for putting that true love’s kiss condition in there although you might want to work on it because it registered me putting my lips to Bossuet’s to breathe air back into his lungs as a kiss.” Musichetta put her hands on her hips and Bahorel just laughed. 

Courfeyrac, however, suddenly looked like he was going to cry so Bossuet had to throw in, “it didn’t fully break until Joly kissed her.” 

“Oh, good. You two breaking up would have really been the death of us all.” 

“I can’t believe you were all so ready to just go and overthrow the King if I’d died.” 

“Don’t even try to joke about any of this.” Combeferre told him smoothly. The only people missing were Éponine and Marius, someone would have to find them later.

Joly went to reply but Courfeyrac leaned forward in his seat, Bossuet was pretty sure he was ready to rush and hug the pair of them but everyone was still giving them and Grantaire room. Grantaire wasn’t hugging them anymore, but he was holding onto them tightly, facing away from everyone, trying to stop himself from crying. Bossuet knew how he felt, relief was coursing through him but he hadn’t quite reached the point of tears yet. “I actually can’t let this go--you two literally have made fun of my ears on more than one occasion.” Courfeyrac said quietly, “why do you think I wear hats all the time?”

“Get out.” Joly whispered and Courfeyrac tucked his hair behind his ears. His profoundly pointed ears. 

“I really thought you were the most oblivious human,” Bahorel began, “seeing as you accidentally wandered into Fae and saved the Crown Prince’s life before wandering your way back out with only a life-debt from the Crown Prince of the Dawn Court to show for it.” His eyes were on Grantaire and Joly tilted his head in confusion. 

“You never told me that.” Bossuet told Grantaire as he steeled himself and let go of them. 

“I was saving it for when it counted.” Grantaire turned around and led them to a table where he immediately grabbed a pitcher of ale and poured them glasses. Bossuet looked to Jehan who was intently looking at a scar on Courfeyrac’s hand. 

“I would have been fine on my own. Joly saw it was me before anything really happened.” 

Without looking up, Jehan said, “you packed a day’s worth of food and were headed in the completely wrong direction when I found you. Plus, I found where they were and I distracted Musichetta so you could stop yourself from plummeting into the ocean until  _ after  _ Joly saw you.” 

Joly took his drink and downed it in one long go. Grantaire next to them just frowned, “I think they can hide out at Courfeyrac’s for a couple of day and then you can go to my sister’s--”

“We’re not leaving you.” 

“The King will kill you.” 

“I can glamour them.” Jehan piped up, “Bahorel and I can glamour them.”

Around him, Bossuet’s friends began making plans and he almost wanted to be facing a monster again: there were more unknowns now and they all terrified him. But, if they could survive the past couple of days, if Joly could be alive and their true love be a sea monster, maybe they could make it through this as well. 


End file.
